


White House Policy on Fraternization, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	White House Policy on Fraternization, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: This really could be set at any point during the Bartlet administration when Donna was still Josh's assistant. Sam's in it, so take your pick about the year. I was inspired to write this story by an article that appeared in the L.A. Times on Sunday, July 24, 2005... Also, this is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. I wrote this little fluff piece in about two hours, so please take that into consideration before reading.  


* * *

This is strange.

I take a step closer to the window and look down.

This is really strange.

Before Josh comes strutting through the door, I walk briskly to my office to scan his calendar: two senators, a health care policy analyst, and a representative from the Spanish Congress of Deputies. It's no one's birthday and it's not a holiday. In fact, it's just a typical day.

The door swings open. "A very good morning to you all."

I stand to greet him. "And by 'you all' I'm assuming you mean me?"

Josh looks around the bullpen. "Where is everybody?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess here and say they're working." I eye the Dunkin' Donuts box in his hands. "What's in the box?"

He sets it down next to the coffee maker. "I brought doughnuts."

I open it. There are crullers, chocolate twists and several powdered jelly doughnuts. "You've never brought doughnuts before, Josh."

"That's because today's a special day." He grins, then walks into his office.

I follow him. "Why's it special?" Again, there's nothing on my calendar or his to indicate any specialness. Unless Jamie Yelnick, the health care policy analyst, is a beautiful woman. In that case Josh may consider this a special day. Of course, I'd have to cancel his appointment with Ms. Yelnick and ask them to send that tall overweight guy with the lisp.

"They gave me 13 doughnuts," he says, putting his backpack on the visitor's chair.

"A baker's dozen," I reply, unzipping said backpack.

"A what?" He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it on the coat rack.

"Tell me you've heard of a baker's dozen." I remove four manila folders and stack them on his desk.

"There's an a cappella group at Yale with that name, but I don't see how it relates to doughnuts." Josh rolls up his sleeves. He's been in the office for less than five minutes, and he's already disheveled.

"It originates from the practice of baking 13 items for an intended dozen to prevent short measure." I step into the hallway to grab a chocolate twist. "This was on the basis that one of the 13 would be lost, ruined or burnt in some way, leaving the baker with the original dozen." I take a small bite.

"You know the origin of the term?" He smirks.

"Does that surprise you?" I take another bite.

He sighs. "It really shouldn't."

"So you were saying..." I sit on the arm of the visitor's chair.

"I was saying?" Josh flips through the files on his desk.

"You said today's a special day." I watch for a reaction.

He smiles. "It is."

"Josh!"

"Donna!" He mimics my voice.

"What's special about this day?"

He writes something on a yellow Post-it note. "Have you read The Post yet?"

The phone rings.

"I skimmed it before I left my apartment." I take one more bite of the chocolate twist, then hand it to Josh. "Did you see the article about the pet locator implants? They take this tracking device and surgically insert it–"

"Donna?"

"Hmm?" I wipe my mouth with a napkin.

He points the tip of his pen toward the phone. "You gonna get that?"

I look at him, then at the phone. "Josh Lyman," I answer around a mouthful of chocolate and dough.

"Hi, Donna. Is Josh in yet?" CJ asks.

"Yes. He says it's a special day, CJ. He brought doughnuts."

Josh swallows a large bite. "Is that CJ?" he whispers, pointing once again to the phone.

I nod.

"This might be worse than I thought." It sounds like she says this to someone else in the room. "Send him to my office, would you? Tell him it's an emergency."

"Is everything–"

"Just send him in, Donna. Thank you." She hangs up.

"CJ said she needs you in her office right away. It's an emergency."

He sighs. "Yeah."

"What's going on?" I fold my arms.

"Tell Senator Jacks I might be a couple minutes late." He hands me the Post-it note and shoves the rest of the chocolate twist in his mouth before walking out.

I watch him disappear, then look down at the note: C-5 is all it says.

********  
This is a good day. I'm not letting anything or anyone ruin it. Today, doors have been opened. We've got a long way to go, but it's still a special day. Monumental even. 

I walk into CJ's office with a smile firmly in place. "Good morning, Claudia Jean." 

We're not alone. Sam is sitting on the edge of the sofa, and Toby's perched on the corner of CJ's desk. This doesn't bode well for me.

"Sam, Toby. Good morning to you, too."

"Hey, Josh," Sam says.

"How's it going?" I shove my hands in my pockets.

"Donna said you brought doughnuts." CJ tilts her head.

I flip my thumb toward the door. "I could go get them if you want. Or I could call Donna and ask–"

"Have you read the paper this morning, Josh?" Toby folds the Business section into two parts.

"I'm glad you asked." My leg starts bouncing. "Did you see the thing about the pet tracking device? I was thinking about getting a dog, and if I did, I might give this–"

He tosses the paper onto the coffee table. "The article above the fold." He points to the headline.

Sam reads it aloud. "Case Spotlights Office Affairs."

I gulp.

"Did you read that article, Josh?" CJ asks, tapping a pencil against her desk.

I stare at the paper. "I might've, you know, glanced at it."

"Tell me this is not the reason today is, in your mind, a special day." Toby glares at me.

Well, I could tell him that, but I'd be lying. "Why would–"

"If I were you, it would be a special day," Sam says.

Toby and CJ give him a stern look.

"I mean, if I had the hots for my assistant." Sam holds up his hand. "Which, of course, I don't. I adore Bonnie, but she's really not my type. Don't get me wrong, I think she's attractive but, you know."

Toby turns to CJ. "Why did we allow him in here?"

"You opened the door," she responds.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I turn to Sam.

"If you think I'm saying you have the hots for Donna, then yes."

"Sam!" Toby yells.

Sam jumps. "He might need it pointed out. Let's face it, Josh isn't the sharpest guy when it comes to matters of the heart."

"And you are?" Toby asks.

"Hey!" I say. "I'm standing right here."

"Josh," CJ begins. "This doesn't change anything." She looks sorrowful.

I try laughing. "This is ridiculous. I don't have the hots for my assistant." If I don't say her name, this might be easier.

Sam stifles a laugh.

"What?"

"It's just..." He leans forward. "Well, she's tall, blonde, smart, sexy. What's not to like?"

I put my hands on my hips. "You should probably quit while you're ahead."

"He's ahead?" Toby asks, scratching his beard.

"Look." CJ slaps her desk. "This is serious, Josh. This article, while it might pave the way for future office romances in the year 2010, does not give you the green light to pursue anything with anyone who might work for you."

"With me," I correct.

"Whatever!" Toby shouts. "Just keep your hands to yourself, and everything will be fine." 

I get defensive. "I think I've done a pretty good job of that so far, Toby."

"Then you do admit that you have a crush on Donna." Sam smiles.

Toby points to the door. "Sam, leave."

He stands. "Who are we to stand in the way of true love, Toby?"

Toby cradles his head in his hands, and CJ bangs her head on the desk.

"Sam," I plead. He's not helping my case.

He shrugs and looks at me. "I'm just saying."

"We're the White House!" CJ yells. "We aren't the 99 Cents store or Joe's Coffee Shop. We work for the President of the United States. Our private lives can quickly become public." She takes a deep breath. "There are 50 reporters in this building who would love nothing more than to rock their papers or networks with a story about a tawdry office affair."

"You think they'd really do that?" Sam asks.

"Yes, Sam," Toby replies in a soft voice. "They'd do that."

I clench my jaw. "Is that all?" I need to get the hell out of this room before I explode.

"I'm serious." Again, CJ looks sorrowful.

I look at my watch. "I've got a meeting with Senator Jacks."

Toby raises his eyebrows. "Go."

********  
"Hi, Josh." I stand and meet him at the mailboxes.

He looks dejected. "I'm returning the doughnuts, Donna."

I crinkle my brow. "I don't think they let you return baked goods."

He walks to the coffee maker. "Why not?"

I pour some Creamora into his cup. "Health reasons, I'm sure."

He opens the box. "They're gone."

"That's what happens when you bring doughnuts to the office, Josh." I lean against the table. "People eat them."

He huffs and walks back into his office. "Is Jacks here yet?"

"You're supposed to go there," I reply. I take a few steps into his office. "I thought this was a special day?"

He looks up from a memo I put on his desk earlier. "It was."

"You don't seem happy any more."

He looks back down at the paper in his hand. "I'm not."

"So it went from special to bad in, like, 15 minutes?"

"Pretty much." He sighs. "Call over to Jacks' office and ask him if he'll come here."

"Don't make the poor man wobble over here on crutches, Josh."

"He's a Republican." As if that makes it acceptable to make an injured man change his plans to meet Josh here.

He rolls his sleeves down and buttons the cuffs. "I didn't even get to eat a whole doughnut."

He puts his suit jacket on, and I hand him his backpack. "You ate the rest of my chocolate twist."

He huffs. "That didn't count."

Oh, by the way, I read the article, Joshua. Fifty-eight percent is more than I expected. 

Of course, I don't tell him this. Instead, I call down to human resources.

"Hi, Harriet. It's Donna Moss."

"Oh, hello, Donna. It's been a while since I've seen you in the Mess."

"Frankie stopped making the Asian chicken salads on Wednesdays."

"I told him that would cause a ruckus." She giggles.

"Harriet, would you mind sending me a copy of section C of the employee handbook?"

I hear her shuffling papers. "That's a popular one today. That Post article turned some heads."

Interesting. "I'm not the only one asking for it?"

"You're the fourth person, and it's barely 10 a.m."

Very interesting. "Do you think the court ruling will force us to change our policy?"

She sighs. "I doubt it. This one's pretty comprehensive. Besides, we're the federal government."

"Yeah." I look down at my copy of the article.

"I'll have Ethan run it up to you in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Harriet."

********  
I do not feel like doing my job today. It's an odd feeling. I haven't felt this way in a long time or, you know, ever. 

Senator Jacks is going on and on about the closing of a Kansas state penitentiary. "...when the Latham prison shut its doors in '99, it doubled the number of inmates at the..."

What I need is a copy of the White House employee handbook. I haven't referred to it, well, ever. I just assumed dating a subordinate would be frowned upon. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there's a phrase in there that explains in certain cases, it's acceptable for a boss to date his younger, blonde, leggy, intelligent assistant.

"...the three congressmen who voted for the closing two years ago are ready to stand beside me now and..."

I'll go through every section as if I'm a lawyer presenting a case before the Supreme Court. Wait a minute. I _am_ a lawyer. The Supreme Court may not be involved, but I can still dig deep.

"...the Scranton Penitentiary was the last one to close in Pennsylvania, and I didn't see Bartlet making any attempt to..."

Harriet in HR loves me. I brought her a muffin once. Ever since then, she's been a fan. Too bad there's no more doughnuts. I could've gone down there and offered her one before delving into the intricacies of the White House policy on fraternization.

Ok, I've had enough of this Republican senator's rants. "This is a state issue, senator. My hands are tied."

"That's not what you said when Palm State Prison for Women was nearly closed last year."

I shrug. "It was a women's prison. That's different."

"How?"

I stand. "I don't have time to get into it with you, Senator Jacks. If you want to get the details about Palm State, visit your Republican buddy in Palm Springs. Maybe you could play 18-holes while you discuss it."

He shakes his head. "What exactly do you guys do over there?"

"The President likes to play Go Fish between Days of our Lives and General Hospital, but Toby prefers Crazy Eights. Me? I'm an old fashioned guy. I like poker or blackjack."

"You're an ass, Lyman."

I put my backpack on one shoulder. "You're an idiot, Jacks."

Well, that felt good. I'm back to enjoying the hell out of my job.

********  
I've got a file on stem cell research covering the employee handbook on my desk. I take a few sips of Diet Coke and write a couple of meaningless notes on a memo pad. This way if anyone walks by, it will look like business as usual.

After skimming 28 pages, I find the section I need:

"The federal government has adopted an anti-fraternization policy which prohibits romantic relationships between two employees who are in a supervisor/subordinate role, including any situation in which one of those co-employees has direct input to the other's job...This helps prevent claims that one subordinate is getting preferential treatment from the supervisor as a result of their romantic relationship."

Fuck.

"That was a colossal waste of my time," Josh says, entering my work area.

I slam both folders shut. "Hi."

He looks at my desk. "What are you doing?"

"Just going over notes for you meeting with the health care policy analyst."

"Ah, yes. Jamie Yelnick." He leans against the filing cabinet with a fascinated look in his eyes.

I'll be damned if Josh set up this meeting to have a little one-on-one time with Ms. Yelnick. "Actually, Jamie canceled. She's sending Boyd in her place."

His face scrunches up. "The big guy with halitosis?"

I smile. "The one and only."

He pushes himself off the filing cabinet and walks into his office. "I have 30 minutes, right?"

"Yeah. You need anything?" I yell from my desk.

Josh pokes his head out. "Yes. Call Harriet Burton in HR and ask her to pay me a visit." He disappears into his office.

Well. This is getting more interesting by the minute.

I call Harriet, and she agrees to meet Josh in his office. Meanwhile, Sam's standing at my desk.

"Hi, Sam."

"Hey."

He flips my snow globe over. "I just want you to know I think it's a shame."

"What's a shame?" I ask, leaning forward.

Just then, CJ comes up behind Sam and grabs his ear. I taught her that move.

"Samuel Norman Seaborn, go to my office right now." She releases him.

He rubs his left ear. "CJ, I had my ear pierced in high school, and after the hole closed, it became more sensitive to pain. That hurt."

She points toward her office. "Now!"

Sam does as he's told.

CJ straightens her blouse and smiles at me. "Hello, Donna."

"CJ," I say. There aren't many times when I'm afraid of CJ, but this could be categorized as one of them.

"We might have to have a little chat later."

I nod. "Ok. I have a lunch thing at 12:30, but I could make some time this afternoon."

She tilts her head. "Thank you."

I fear this is about the article. Why does everyone assume Josh and I would...fraternize? Hell, we haven't even discussed it. Of course, if he asked me on a date or, you know, to have sex with him, I probably wouldn't turn him down. Ok, I'd look for the nearest flat surface. Actually, a wall would do just fine.

As she walks away, she must notice Josh in his doorway. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Yes," he quickly answers, shutting his door.

Now where was I? Ah, yes. The employee handbook.

********  
Harriet Burton just read the White House's policy on fraternization to me. Or should I say the _anti_ fraternization policy.

I remove my feet from my desk. "Isn't there room for interpretation?"

She scans the handbook. "I don't think so."

"What if there's no preferential treatment?" I ask, holding a pen between my index finger and pinky. "In fact, what if there's just the opposite?"

"You mean poor treatment?"

"No," I quickly amend my statement. "Just regular treatment. You know, standard employer/employee stuff."

"Well, I think the first part of the section makes it pretty clear." She repeats the first part, emphasizing the word 'prohibits'."

I put my elbows on my desk. "Isn't prying into an employee's personal life an invasion of privacy?"

"It is."

I shrug. "Then what if the parties involved kept quiet about the romance? What if everything remained the same at work, but on their own time, in the privacy of their own homes, they chose to engage in sex?"

"Sex?" Her eyebrows shoot up.

I wave my hands in the air as if striking my last statement. "A relationship. I meant a relationship." 

She blinks a few times. "If it's in private and no one finds out, I guess you'd be safe. But it's a big risk. The two people involved would be intentionally breaking the government's policy."

"But law outweighs policy, does it not?"

"Yes."

"And it's not unlawful to engage in an office romance."

"No. It's perfectly legal," she responds.

"Huh." A smile slowly spreads across my face.

"Josh, if someone were to discover this relationship, it could cause a world of pain and trouble." Harriet looks at her lap. "I used to work for a law firm with a similar policy. Two people in this situation kept their romance a secret for nearly two years. Someone found out about it just before Christmas in 1992, and it was devastating."

My smile quickly fades. "What happened?"

"The woman was transferred to the firm's Atlanta office, and the man was fired."

I gulp. "Oh."

"It's just..." She shifts uncomfortably in the chair. "Well, I'd hate to see you go through something like that."

I study her. There's a look of pity on her face. She knows. This could work in my favor. As I mentioned earlier, Harriet likes me. She likes Donna too. They used to eat Asian chicken salads every Wednesday.

"Thank you, Harriet." I stand. "I might need to consult you about this again."

She stands as well. "You know where I work."

I escort her to the door. "I do."

She disappears through the swinging doors.

I've got some planning to do.

********  
Sam barely says hello to me the rest of the day, Toby avoids me altogether, and CJ looks guilty every time she passes my desk.

The fourth time she passes, I stop her. "CJ, can we talk?"

She looks startled. "Oh. Yes. Yes, we can talk. My office in five?"

I nod.

Josh is in his last formal meeting of the day with a representative from the Spanish Congress of Deputies. I wanted to poke my head in there to see how badly Josh is butchering the Spanish language. For whatever reason, Josh feels the need to speak Spanish when he's meeting anyone from a Spanish-speaking nation. Josh took two years of Spanish in high school and one year in college. To say he has trouble with pronunciation and actual, you know, words, would be an understatement. He can't even order enchiladas from Tito's Mexican Restaurant without destroying the pronunciation of the special sauce.

However, talking to CJ seems more important than making fun of my boss right now.

I walk into her office, shutting the door behind me. "Hi."

She smiles. "Have a seat."

I do as I'm told. "Will you sit next to me?"

She laughs. "What is this, kindergarten?"

"It's just that when you sit behind your desk, you're CJ, the Press Secretary. When you sit next to me, you're CJ, my friend."

She looks at me like I'm on something. "Ok."

Once we're seated next to each other on the sofa, I begin. "This is all about the article in The Post, isn't it?"

She licks her lips. "When you say 'this', what are you referring to?"

"Don't do that, CJ." I cross my legs. "We're adults, and I'd like to think we're friends."

"We are," she says emphatically.

"Then what's going on?"

She huffs. "I'm assuming you read it?"

I nod.

"The court ruling works in most employers' favor–it found that the man who had sexual relations with two different subordinates was guilty of favoritism when he promoted them instead of two more qualified employees." She pauses. "On the one hand, I'm sure many human resource managers rejoiced that their policy against supervisor/subordinate relationships was enforced and upheld."

"On the other hand?" I ask.

“The article pointed out the other side of the office romance story," she says.

"You mean the part where 51% of respondents said they have dated or would willingly date a subordinate?"

"That's one point."

"I'd like to add I think that number is actually higher. People are just afraid to admit it."

"Donna," she warns.

I continue. "Or are you referring to the part about employers policing the private lives of their employees? You know, the invasion of privacy thing?" I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

CJ sighs.

"Of course, there's the part that states the ruling is limited because it expands only the definition of a hostile work environment or promotion of a less-qualified subordinate."

She leans back against the sofa. It almost looks like CJ's defeated.

I take one more stab. "Then there's the whole section about not being able to fire someone unless the act of the employee interferes with her ability to work."

She turns her head to me. "Donna?"

"Yes?"

"You can't date Josh," she whispers.

I lower my head. "This isn't about dating Josh."

"The hell it isn't." She sits up straight. "It's obvious the way you two feel about each other. I see it, Toby sees it, Sam encourages it..."

"We've never done anything inappropriate, CJ."

"And you've got to keep it that way." She covers my hand with hers. "I know it's difficult. I know it seems unfair. But you work for the President of the United States. It doesn't get more public than that."

"I don't work directly for President Bartlet," I try.

She tilts her head. Yeah, I get it.

"Believe me, Donna. You don't want every facet of your life explored and revealed in the press. They'll dig up boyfriends from second grade, and they won't stop there. They'll somehow get their hands on love letters or incriminating e-mails. Mind you, you will have done nothing illegal. This is all media. They'll make your life a living hell."

I look away.

"You don't want that." She squeezes my hand. "I don't want that for you or Josh."

"We could fight it," I say quietly.

"Yes, you could. But you'd get transferred. Josh would most definitely be fired or demoted. And those are best case scenarios."

I look at CJ. "We could plead the whole privacy thing. We could demonstrate our work hasn't suffered because of a relationship. I've never been promoted, so we wouldn't have to worry about favoritism."

"What about when Josh hired you?"

I crinkle my brow. "When Josh hired me?"

"Yeah. He must've passed over at least 30 people before hiring you."

"He didn't hire me. I hired myself."

She smiles. "During the campaign, yeah. I'm talking about when we began serving in the White House. Josh could've and probably should've conducted interviews for special assistant to the deputy chief of staff."

"Why?"

CJ shrugs. "Because it's a public position. You're not Josh's personal assistant."

"Tell him that." It's the first time I've smiled since I walked in here.

"I hate doing this, Donna. Believe me, I do."

I nod. "I know."

"I'll come to your wedding in five years." She grins.

"You'll be _in_ my wedding in five years," I respond. We stand.

"Please don't tell Josh about this." I look at the ground. "We've never even spoken about our feelings, CJ. I don't want him to think I have a crush on him."

"God, no. That nauseating swagger would be twice as bad."

I chuckle. "Thanks for listening."

She hugs me. "Anytime."

I walk back to my desk feeling sorry for myself. I'm sure my appearance looks much like Josh's earlier this morning.

For not being in a relationship with Josh or even _kissing_ him for that matter, I'm a mess. 

Wait a minute. What if we don't enter a relationship? What if we just kiss on occasion? Sex every once in a while doesn't constitute a relationship. Maybe I'm on to something here.

********  
If I look at this stem cell research paper another minute, my eyes are going to pop out of my head. It's one of the top five things I'd like to accomplish before we leave office, but I'm done with this and everything else today. It's been long and painful. Mostly painful.

I've been told by CJ, Toby and Sam (well, not really Sam) that I cannot have a relationship with my assistant. I'm not even in a relationship with Donna, but they just put the kibosh on any future relationship with her as long as we work together. I'm not feeling real positive right now.

I hear a knock on my door. "Come in."

Donna walks in, already wearing her coat. "It's late, Josh. I'm leaving. You should, too."

I lean back in my chair and stretch. "Yeah."

She closes the door behind her. Donna rarely closes the door.

"Fifty-eight percent." She unwraps a peppermint and pops it in her mouth.

"Excuse me?" That number sounds familiar, but I've been staring at percentages all evening.

"Fifty-eight percent," she repeats. "That's up 12 percent in two years."

Well, well. She's referring to the article in The Post.

I smile. "Those are just the ones who admitted to being involved in an office romance this year."

She sits in the visitor's chair. "I know."

I walk around my desk, perching on the edge closer to Donna. "Twenty-eight percent admitted dating a subordinate."

"That number's hardly convincing," she replies.

"People lie."

She grins. "If you add the other 23 percent who said they were willing to date a subordinate, then we're getting somewhere."

Where were we going to be getting somewhere?

My cheeks heat up. "So that makes over half the respondents guilty of having or willing to have a relationship with their employees."

"I prefer not to use the word 'guilty'." She chews the mint, and it makes a loud cracking sound.

"Right." The smell of Donna coupled with mint is enough to make me...

"There's no law against office romances, you know," she says.

"I'm a lawyer, Donna." I smirk.

She leans forward. "Then you know it's not illegal for a supervisor and his subordinate to kiss?"

I nod. I have to quit staring at her lips. But their so full and pink and...full.

"Although there is a policy in place here and at many American companies stating that a supervisor cannot have a romantic relationship with his subordinate, there's nothing stating that they can't, you know, kiss."

I gulp. "Wouldn't that be considered a romantic relationship?"

She shrugs. "I always thought of a relationship as something that lasts a certain amount of time. Something continuous."

"And kissing isn't something continuous?" I change my position on the desk. Now Donna's legs are between mine.

"Well, it would be continuous if we kissed on more than one occasion."

WE? I've been paying close attention. That's the first time 'we' has been introduced.

I nudge her foot with my calf. "What if we were to kiss, then not kiss again for some time?"

I love these pointy boots she's wearing.

She rubs my leg with her foot. "You mean, make it something inconsistent so as not to be construed as a relationship?"

I nod vigorously. "Exactly."

She stands. "I think we'd be safe under that definition."

There isn't much room between the chair she was sitting in and my desk, so Donna's standing very much in my personal space.

I put my hands on her waist. She puts hers on my chest.

"Does that door lock?" she asks.

"No. I don't think it does." My breathing is erratic. 

I guess it doesn't matter because Donna's lips are fused against mine. I run one hand up her back and keep one planted on her hip. She wraps both hands around my neck. Her lips are soft and inviting. I push away from the desk just enough to pull her closer.

When Donna's lips trail down my chin and neck, then move to my ear, it hits me: I'm in trouble. There's no way this is going to be an occasional thing. There's no way in hell it's going to be a one time thing. Furthermore, I don't think this thing is going to end in my office. Donna's going to come home with me.

She has my earlobe in her mouth. "Come home with me."

Or, you know, I'm going home with her.

I nod.

She pulls away. "As long as we're clear. This isn't a relationship."

"Not even close," I say, kissing her neck. "But we'll do this fairly often?"

"Very often," she responds, bending her head to give me better access. "Just not in a continuous fashion."

I kiss her collarbone and push her blouse off her shoulder. I think a button just popped off her shirt.

"So it isn't misconstrued as a relationship," I say between kisses.

"Exactly."

She pulls my head up and straightens my tie. "We need to leave."

I'm panting. Why can't I close my mouth? Oh, right. It's because Donna's shirt is popped open, her shoulder and black bra strap are exposed, and her skin is a brilliant shade of pink.

"Yes" is all I can manage.

"To work on our non-relationship," she says, pulling her blouse back into place. She bends down, gathering not one but two buttons from the floor.

I smirk.

"You're paying for these to get sewn back on," she says.

"I'll buy you a new blouse if it means we can get out of here faster." I kiss her on the lips again.

Donna pulls back and grabs her coat from the chair. I help her into it.

"So this is why today was a special day?"

I crease my brow.

"Because of the small facts in the article?"

I grin. "I think they're pretty big facts, Donna."

"Big enough to warrant doughnuts?" She smiles.

"Maybe not, but this development certainly warrants baked goods." I run my hands over her sides.

She opens the door. "So you're making me breakfast?"

"We should probably clear something up." I put my coat on and get my backpack. "I didn't bake the doughnuts."

We walk down the hallway, making sure to keep a healthy distance between us.

"I should clear something up, too." She licks her lips and leans a little closer. "You're making me breakfast tomorrow morning."

"I hope you like burnt toast."

She smiles.


End file.
